Lift Me Up
by Soul of Draken
Summary: Takes place after Resident Evil 6. Chris has once again succumbed to drunken depression and has left the BSAA to live in seclusion without telling anyone his location. He suffers a major psychological breakdown around the time Sheva finds him and they eventually end up deeply in love with boundless sexual desire. Will their newfound feelings for each other be enough to save Chris?
1. Chapter 1: Seeing Red

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Resident Evil series.

**Author's Note: **This fanfic has been in the works for almost a year now and it was originally going to be a lemony one-shot with Chris and Sheva. I had started doing the one-shot and then got rid of it about halfway through because I didn't like rushing into the sexual details so fast. Then, I tried doing the one-shot a different way and that too was shot down before I could get a couple of paragraphs in. All hope was lost, I thought. Then, just recently, I decided on making it into a story. Ideas were flooding in and that's how I got the idea of turning a sexual one-shot into a deeply romantic story with strong psychological elements. There's still gonna be sex in explicit detail, really explicit detail, but that won't come until later. If you're looking forward to that, have patience, it'll be well worth the wait. Also, I wanted to point out that the Chris in my fanfic is not nearly as muscular as he is in Resident Evil 5 and 6. He still has a muscular figure, he just doesn't look like Arnold anymore.

**Content Note: **This fanfic is rated M for strong language, violence, and explicit sexual content. This is listed under General/Romance because I couldn't find a genre with psychological elements.

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**_Lift Me Up_**

**_Chapter 1: Seeing Red_**

"Hey, Tom," I said with a heavy sigh, looking down at the full plate of steak and potatoes in front of me. "Would you please tell the cook that I wanted this meat well done? This shit is medium-rare!"

My mind was a little cloudy from the few beers and that whiskey I downed so quickly, but I knew I was thinking straight. The cook didn't seem to like me very much and neither did Tom. He usually gave me a terrible look and shook his head when I complained about something. I'd eaten here every night for the last two weeks and they always got my order wrong. I noticed that they didn't add any gravy to my potatoes either. Fuck.

"Chris, would you please get my name right?" The fat man said, wiping the bar counter with a damp rag while giving me that angry look. "My name isn't Tom, it's Roger. Also, it says on the receipt in front of you that you ordered a medium-rare steak. You even said so yourself that you wanted it medium-rare!"

I was starting to get angry as I picked up the receipt and held it close to my face. It was kind of fuzzy, but I did make out the medium-rare part. Even so, I was still angry. "What about the potatoes then?" I shouted heatedly, slamming a fist down hard on the counter. "I asked for gravy!"

Tom threw his rag aside and walked quickly over to me, snatching the receipt out of my hand. He looked at it and then shook his head while muttering something angrily. I hated when he did that.

"You didn't ask for gravy!" he said, matching my anger while throwing the receipt at me. I watched it slowly fall down to the ground beside the stool I was sitting on.

I looked back at him and stood up, slamming both hands down on the counter. "You should have asked me if I wanted gravy then! Potatoes usually come with that!" I had a right to be angry. I wanted to say something else to him but Tom walked away before I could say anything to his face.

"What's your problem, hothead?" A deep voice said from behind me. I quickly turned around to see three men bigger than I was, all bikers. I didn't show any sign that I was afraid of them as I said; "Fuck you, dickhead."

I think it was a fist that hit me in the face after that, or maybe a baseball bat? I couldn't tell for sure as I blacked out.

I woke up in the dark with my stomach throbbing in extreme pain, I knew I was outside because I could feel the warm rain fall on my face and I smelled wet sand. I felt like my abdomen was being kicked over and over again. My mind slowly started to clear as I found myself realizing that I was, in fact, being kicked over and over again. I painfully looked up and saw through the rain that it was the same three bikers from the truck stop, beating me in succession. I couldn't get up so I just laid there and took the pain. I wanted to grab on to something to help cope with the torture but there was only wet sand that slowly seeped through my trembling fingers. It was at that moment that I wanted to die.

"You fuckin' crazy asshole!" One of the bikers said after they finally stopped kicking the shit out of me. "This is what you get when you fuck with us!" The three of them walked back inside and left me out there in the dark.

I clutched my abdomen as I rolled over to my left side, feeling more rain drip onto my face. It helped me gather my thoughts a little as I closed my eyes and thought about my life in the BSAA and the people I care about. Among them, Piers stood out. He sacrificed his life to make sure I live on, to destroy the B.O.W. threat in this world once and for all. In reality, I should have died there in that underwater facility, not him. He had potential to be a better soldier than I was.

"Piers…" I uttered softly, my voice blanketed by the rain. "I couldn't save you…"

"You let him die!" A familiar voice boomed from the distance. It sent a shiver down my spine, and it was enough to make the sound of rain disappear. The voice came from the direction I was facing but I couldn't see who it was. There wasn't enough light from the truck stop nearby to brighten up the area. "You can't save anyone, that's why you left the BSAA!" The voice added with a wicked laugh. Those words hit me hard, maybe harder than the beating I just received. Nonetheless, the voice was cold and left me with a sense of anger… and fear.

"Who are you? How do you know about that?" I said angrily with a forced cough. I could taste a bit of blood. I hadn't had my ass kicked like that in a long time.

"Chris, I know everything about you." The voice replied with less volume. "You were formerly a member of S.T.A.R.S until you and Jill formed the BSAA. Since you left everyone behind at this point, what are you now?"

I coughed again, the words hitting my mind like daggers. "Nothing. I'm… nothing, just a useless drunk." I said sadly.

"I've never seen you on the ground this weak before, it gives me absolute pleasure, Chris!" The voice said ecstatically with a loud laugh. "If only the people you care about could see you now, if they knew where you were!"

I slowly sat up with a few grunts, still holding my stomach with both arms . "They don't… need to know where I am, this is my choice. It's their fight now." I replied quietly, closing my eyes. "How did you know where I was anyway?"

The voice laughed once again. "Oh, Chris… you can't hide from me. I'm everywhere. I'm…"

"…Wesker." I said softly, cutting him off. I laughed a little after that, then I laughed louder with another sudden cough. "I killed him a few years ago. You think you can beat me down more than I already am by reading about my life and sounding like that bastard?"

There was only silence after that. I found myself looking around at my surroundings as I noticed the sound of rain again. "Well?" I said with a confident smile as I began to slowly stand up.

Just then, a man clad in black came out of the darkness ahead, actually gliding through the air just a few feet off the ground. rushing towards me with amazing speed. His sudden reveal shocked me and sent me falling back down into the warm, wet sand. That was nothing compared to what made me tremble in fear next. The man's blonde hair and bright red eyes were easily distinguishable, there was no denying that. As he was only a few moments from reaching me, he clenched his teeth and his eyes grew brighter, then I found myself and everything around me enveloped in a red light. My heart was racing profoundly and I was having trouble catching my breath. I was too frightened to say or do anything, not to mention I was too beat up to defend myself. I just laid there on the ground, helpless.

"DIE, CHRIS!" Wesker yelled angrily.

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**Ending Note: **The next chapter will be up soon. Any ideas what'll happen? Reviews and criticism are greatly appreciated but entirely optional.

"Things are not what they used to be, missing one inside of me. Deathly lost, this can't be real, can't stand this Hell I feel." - Fade to Black, Metallica


	2. Chapter 2: The State of Things

**Author's Note: **I realize that it's been almost a week since I put up the last chapter, sorry to those that had been waiting. Between work and a slight case of writer's block, I was only able to write a few pieces here and there each day. My goal is to finish a chapter in a week or less. This chapter barely has any dialogue as I wanted to focus on the real introduction of Chris while he's... still sober.

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_**Lift Me Up**_

_**Chapter 2: The State of Things**_

I slowly opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling fan above me. The spinning made my stomach turn so I immediately closed my eyes and took a deep breath to keep myself from throwing up. I knew I was in for a nasty hangover.

"Fuck." I said to myself quietly as my right cheek began to throb. I touched it and flinched a little from the pain, then I gently felt it again and realized that my cheek was swollen like a grapefruit. I was beginning to remember what happened as I let out a low groan, almost throwing up again. I sure got my ass handed to me.

I turned my head away from the ceiling fan and opened my eyes once again, gazing at the kitchen to my right. Several beer bottles and pizza boxes were scattered on the counter and on top of the microwave, I could even see the necks of some bottles sticking out from the sink. I had been collecting quite a mess for maybe a couple of weeks now. I didn't feel like cleaning it up, at least not now.

I looked down and noticed that my black cargo shorts and white t-shirt were almost completely covered in crusty sand and with rips here and there. I'd gotten dirt all over the king-sized bed as well. My skin was filthy and there were bloody scrapes and bruises on my limbs, mostly my arms. I was a fucking mess.

I slowly sat up, holding my abdomen. The pain was almost unbearable and it was hard for me to think straight, but I eventually mustered enough strength to stand up from the bed only to fall forward on all fours. I took deep, painful breaths as I remained in that position for a moment. My lungs felt like they were on fire but that didn't stop me from getting back on my feet. I gradually walked over to the bathroom door and opened it, staring at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I was too miserable to even look at myself, but I had to examine the damage done to my face and chest.

_Chris, you look like hammered shit. _I thought as I began gazing over my face. The grapefruit that was once my right cheek actually looked worse than it felt, like a reddish-purple balloon. There was nothing I could really do about treating it, I just had to let it heal on its own. In the meantime, alcohol would help with the pain, just like it helped with everything else.

I looked over my shoulder-length brown hair; it was disheveled and covered in clumps of sand. I raised my head up to look at my beard, which was also filled with sand. I hadn't shaved in a month, maybe a little longer. I was disgusted with how I looked, more than I'd ever been. On top of that, I just turned 40 not too long ago, but I look older. Fuck it, I didn't really care.

Little by little, I lifted my t-shirt over my head to look at my chest. There were reddish-purple bruises everywhere, more often on my sides where I was kicked the most. They looked worse than they felt as well, but it wasn't worth a trip to the hospital. I wished to remain as off-the-grid as I possibly could. I decided from now on that I wouldn't get into fights, especially ones that I cause.

I took off the rest of my clothes and got into the shower, letting the hot water wash over my wounds. It was painful at first, but it was gradually feeling a lot better, almost therapeutic. I used more shampoo and conditioner on my hair and beard than usual, getting all of the filth out, then I used my favorite Old Spice body wash and a cloth to clean the rest of my body. I had spent about half an hour in the shower, it was pretty uplifting.

I dried myself off, put on a pair of black cargo shorts and green t-shirt, then took another glance at myself in the mirror. I looked younger and fresher than before, it was enough to put a small smile on my face. The smile soon vanished as I let out a low groan; the pain had come back. It continued to weaken my body and all I wanted to do was sit and rest. I turned my gaze away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, holding my abdomen again.

"Oh, pizza." I said to myself quietly, staring at the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter to my left. I was starting to get hungry, and thirsty.

I entered the kitchen area and opened up a box of leftover pepperoni pizza that was sitting on top of three empty pizza boxes. I put the remaining pieces in the microwave. As I waited for them to heat up, I opened up the fridge to find alcohol, and more alcohol. There were full cans and bottles of beer everywhere, mixed in with several bottles of Heaven Hill, my favorite whiskey. I was stocked up for at least a week, maybe two at most. I took out a tall can of Budweiser and waited for the countdown on the microwave to finish. When it beeped I quickly brought the plate to my nose, taking in the spicy aroma of the pepperoni. _Nothing beats pizza and beer for breakfast._

I opened my hotel room door and sat outside on the wooden bench against the wall to the left. I set the plate of pizza down beside me and pulled the tab of my beer, immediately bringing the can to my lips and taking a couple of sips impatiently, sighing. It really helped put the fire out in my lungs.

I'd been staying at the Two Lakes Hotel for the past few months. It was a small and shitty place located next to a highway in the middle of an Arizona desert. The only other place here besides the hotel was the truck stop several yards away from it. The closest town from here, Wakeridge, was over 20 miles away. Some employees who worked at the truck stop took me there from time to time to stock up on supplies.

I hadn't been in contact with anyone since living here - not my sister, not Jill, nobody. The only people I'd talked to were the staff at the truck stop, but I never mentioned what I did in the past. I wanted to be left alone after all that had happened, that's why I'm living off the grid, paying only with cash and using a fake ID. I admit that I worry about Claire at times, but she had Leon looking out for her. He seems like a good guy.

I finished up the last bites of my pizza and gulped down the rest of my beer, then I went back inside and sat on the soft brown chair. I gave out a yawn and closed my eyes, losing my self in thought. I suddenly opened my eyes wide as I remembered the dream I had last night.

"Wesker." I murmured. Those bright red eyes, his distinct laugh, the fear he put into me… it all felt so real! I knew he couldn't be alive though, I made sure he was put down for good. I closed my eyes again, throwing my thoughts of that bastard away.

Just then, there was a soft knock at my door, which made me vigilant. _Somebody from the truck stop? It had to be, no one else knows that I'm here._ I walked over to the door like normal and opened it. My mouth immediately dropped and my mind was suddenly flooded with memories of the past.

"Sh-Sheva?!" I said kind of loud in surprise. It was neither a good nor a bad surprise, I just didn't expect Sheva of all people to find me. How _did_ she find me exactly? She didn't appear to look happy, she seemed furious.

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**Ending Note: **Things are starting to get interesting now, don't you think? It baffled me when I found out that Chris is 40 in 2013! Well, age is but a number and he's still as healthy as ever. Trust me, that'll be put to the test. The Two Lakes Motel and Wakeridge are fictional places, just thought I'd mention that here. I give my awesome wife credit for proofreading my fanfic, I honestly don't know what I'd do without her in my life. She has an account here if you want to read her work, she is currently writing an adventure/romance fanfic on _Dragon's __Dogma_ that involves the character she made and her main pawn. Some great stuff there. Her name is **Ceinwen**.

"Another day goes by, and I don't understand or know the reasons why." - Another Day Goes By, Dope


	3. Chapter 3: Reunion

**Author's Note: **Finally some dialogue between Chris and Sheva, and it's pretty crazy too. There's a lot swearing involved. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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_**Lift Me Up**_

_**Chapter 3: Reunion**_

"I can't believe you, Chris! Why did you turn your back on everyone? Why are you living in this shithole?" Sheva questioned me heatedly, her brown eyes staring into mine.

_A simple 'hello' would have been nice, _I thought.

I remembered the accent she had but I never thought I'd see her again. The last time I saw Sheva was back in Kijuju a few years ago after I had wrapped things up there. She waved goodbye to me as Jill and I were on our way back to America by helicopter.

"Are you listening to me?" Sheva said again in the same tone of voice. I had a reason to leave after everything that had happened. She had no right to be angry with me, it wasn't even her problem.

"I hear you." I said a little irritably. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

There was a moment of silence, then Sheva shook her head and said in a normal tone, "What happened to your face?"

I gently touched my cheek. I didn't want her to know that I'd gotten into a fight with some bikers while I was hammered. Well, it wasn't really a fight if I didn't throw any punches. "I got run over by karma." I simply said. "Didn't see it coming."

"Yeah, okay." She said sarcastically with a raised eyebrow. "Can I come in? It's hot out here."

I chuckled. "I bet it's not as hot as Kijuju though."

"No, it's not." She replied with a straight face. I half expected her to laugh or even smile at that joke.

I moved aside a bit and she quickly brushed past me. I'd only ever seen Sheva in combat gear and it was weird seeing her wearing civilian clothes, especially ones that complimented her dark skin so well. She wore a yellow and orange spaghetti-strap dress that ended just above her knees and her brown sandals were covered in red and clear beads. Her full brown hair had grown out and fell to her waist in waves.

"So, why are you here, Sheva?" I asked her, closing the door behind us. "How did you even know where I was?"

She sat down on the brown chair and I sat on the matching couch just across from her.

"You still haven't answered _my _questions, Chris." Sheva said, looking around the hotel room a bit before looking back at me. "Why did you leave the BSAA?"

I gave out a sigh. "I left because I couldn't take the horror in my life anymore, alright? The things I've seen… it's enough to make a man completely insane."

"I know what you mean." Sheva replied, looking down at the ground. "It's not easy to forget the things that I saw either." She then looked back at me with a more serious look. "But that's no reason to turn your back on everyone! What happened to the brave and determined Chris I knew back in Kijuju?"

I turned my head away from her in shame. "I'm not that person anymore. I'm living a new life now, away from all of the fighting, away from everyone." I paused. "I'm happy here."

"You're not happy, Chris." Sheva said, studying my face. "You're fucking depressed. This whole room practically screams it, your face screams it! Look around, you know I'm right."

I looked around the room for a brief moment, noticing the beer bottles and the pizza boxes in the kitchen behind me again. Dirty clothes were also strewn across the floor. _Fuck, she's right. _I thought with my head down.

"Just leave me alone, Sheva." I said quietly.

"No, I'm not going to leave you alone, not until you decide to come back to the BSAA." She snapped.

I brought my head back up to look at her with a miserable look. "I'm not going back, they're better off without me." I replied.

"Chris!" She exclaimed, standing up quickly. "We need you now more than ever! Do you have any idea what's going on right now in Chicago, or Philadelphia, or even New Jersey?"

"The crime rate went up?" I said with a shrug.

"Stop with the jokes!" She responded angrily. "I'm serious!"

"I'm serious too, Sheva!" I said, matching her tone of voice as I stood up to face her. "I told you, I'm not going back! I'd rather kill myself than have another man die under my fucking command!"

"People die no matter what!" She yelled back. "The BSAA needs you back, you know it's true!"

"I haven't even touched a gun in months, I'm probably rusty as shit!" I retorted. "Just leave me the fuck alone!"

"You're a fucking coward!" She screamed, her face just inches from mine. I could feel her warm breath on my face. "I would punch some sense into you but I see somebody has already tried that!"

"Try it, you bitch!" I shouted, patting the other side of my cheek for her. "Hit me as hard as you can!"

Instead of a punch to the face, she nailed me in the chest, sending me back down on the couch. The pain was excruciating given the fact that I was already injured there.

"Fuck!" I yelled, holding my chest with both arms. "Why couldn't you just kick me in the nuts? That would have been better!"

Sheva had a surprised look on her face and replied, "S-Sorry, Chris! I didn't think I hit you _that_ hard! Are you okay?"

"Does it look like I'm fucking okay?" I replied in anger, lifting up my shirt to show her my injuries.

She put a hand to her mouth and gasped, kneeling down in front of me. "Wow, you were hit by karma alright. Sorry, I wouldn't have punched you there if I knew you were already hurt."

I took deep breaths. "I should be fine once I have a beer. Could you grab a bottle from the fridge for me?"

She stood up and glanced at the fridge from across the room, then looked back down at me.

"What's wrong?" I said, confused.

"You don't need alcohol to make yourself feel better." She stated, her hands on her hips. "I want you to stop drinking."

_Is she serious? When did she become my fucking mother?_ I thought.

"Give me a beer! It helps with the pain!" I replied kind of loud. "Either get me one or get the fuck out!"

"Fine." Sheva said coolly, headed for the door. "I'll be back later on."

She reached for the doorknob and opened the door, then stopped to turn her head at me to say, "By the way, it was Jill who told me where you were."

She then closed the door behind her, leaving me a little surprised. I laid down on the couch and built up anger inside me. _I told Jill not to tell anyone where I was! She fucking betrayed me! Bitch! They're both bitches!_

Then, I heard that evil laugh again. I quickly got up from the couch to find _him_ standing in the kitchen!

"W-Wesker!" I exclaimed, my mind racing as I looked at the dark-clothed man. _I wasn't dreaming about him last night? What the fuck is going on here?! _"You're supposed to be dead!"

He laughed, his eyes looking completely normal. "I already told you, Chris, I'm everywhere! You can't kill me!" He replied with another laugh, walking slowly over to me.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What do I do? What do I do?! _I thought frantically.

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**Ending Note: **I leave this off on yet another cliffhanger. What's gonna happen next? Do you think Sheva is right about getting Chris back in action? Or is Chris right about leaving the horror behind to live out his new life?

"Down in a hole and I don't know if I can be saved." - Down in a Hole, Alice in Chains


End file.
